


Win-Win Situation

by LiberAmans214



Series: Drabbles Of a Destiel Universe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is badass, Dean loses the game, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Strip Poker, Strip Tease, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, and im just plain bad, at poker, at tags, hunter husbands, not explicit, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 03:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21237530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/pseuds/LiberAmans214
Summary: Ironically enough, Cas is looking at the only part of Dean which is still covered, where he’s already tenting under the weight of his husband’s weighed stare. Dean feels a thrill run up his spine, at seeing Castiel's interest in spite of a few years of marriage, but he doesn't dwell on that for long.Flustered for once at Cas’s attention, Dean rubs his sweaty palms on his thighs, almost smoothening out the fabric of his boxers, if only to cause a little bit of movement. “Getting kinda chilly here, isn’t it?”“Why, I thought it was,” Cas mused out loud, appreciative eyes flickering up to meet Dean’s, running over his physique in a rush. “Getting Hotter.”Dean flushes pink, and begins to deal the next hand; anxious to win this time. You could say it's for his pride - but it's really just to get Castiel to his degree of nakedness.ORThe One in which Dean and Cas play strip poker.





	Win-Win Situation

“Say, Cas.” Dean Winchester’s hand landed on the latter’s knee, as his eyes returned to meet his husband’s. “When was the last time we played poker?”

Castiel tilted his head, a smile dangling from his lips. “Not long,” He replied, easily. “But if you want to, we could always head home. These clubs aren’t my scene anyways.” He muttered, while Dean grinned. “You could order takeout for dinner, while I look for the cards and chips in our room.”

The domesticity of that simple line almost threw Dean off his mark, but he squeezed Cas’s knee and shrugged. “You and your practically photographic memory are at a loss, and you say, ‘not long’.” He mocked, as Cas rolled his eyes dramatically.

“And,” Dean went on. “Don’t you dare blame me if you can’t find them! I _remember_ the last time we played, Cas. I won rock-paper-scissors and you were stuck with put-stuff-in-their-place duty.” He laughed.

“Why don’t you just call it ‘adulting’?” Cas threw back.

“Whatever. So you were the one who put it all back, while I waited for you in bed.” Dean said, purposefully leaning towards Cas, with a smirk.

“You fell asleep, you ass.”

*

Seated across each other, about an hour later, Dean determinedly kept his outdoors jacket on. Cas had looked at him puzzled as he removed his trenchcoat like a normal person, but he didn’t think much into it.

Until of course, right as Cas brought them both beers and sat down on his end, and Dean spoke up, a gleam in his eyes. “Care to make it more interesting?”

“How?” Cas unbottled his beer, and took an experimental sip with eyebrows raised.

“A slight addition to the rules, maybe.” Dean started, leaning back in his chair. “Like, every time one of us gets an hand, the other has to take something off. An article of clothing, that is. It’s an effective way to increase the anticipation and -”

“Did you just describe strip poker to me, without saying the word 'strip poker’?” Cas retorted, his eyes wide. “And, you’re kidding, right?”

“What?” Dean defended, raising his hands in the universal no-offense gesture. “I’ve been 'knowing you _biblically_’ for years now - what are you afraid of, losing?”

Cas narrowed his eyes, stifling a grin. Dean was adorable, with his wide puppy-eyes and bowstrung lips pouting decisively. “It’s not about getting naked in front of you.” He stated, plainly, making Dean crumple into a laugh. “And Dean, you may be the one with 'hustling poker’ on your curriculum vitae, but you’d need to be more drunk than you are, to forget that I’m _very_ good at poker.”

“Call it a _resume_ like the rest of us, smartass.” Dean rolled his eyes, and Cas hummed smugly. “And that’s gonna be a yes, huh?”

*

The first hand goes to Dean. He whistles obnoxiously as Cas begins to untie his shoelaces, and its when he starts hooting encouragingly that his husband puts up a proper show for the shoe-removal, getting up and rolling his hips as he bends to take them off.

“This was an amazing idea.” Dean declares, proud of himself, as a chuckling Castiel resumes dealing.

*

Dean crosses his arms on his chest, trying once again to make the puppy-eyes work.

“It was _your_ amazing idea, Dean.” Cas insists, biting his lip. “_Off_ with it.”

And that’s how Dean ends up pulling his white vest over his head, leaving him half-naked, with only his boxer briefs left on him - the rest of his outfit in shreds around them, lost to Castiel’s winning luck.

When he sits back down, he’s folding his arms on his bare chest again, and he knows it makes his biceps more prominent, and does it anyways, because he’s allowed to have his fun.

Sure, he isn’t as fit as he was when he was 22 and living with John Winchester, the ex-Marine - but 30 is practically a man’s prime these days. And looking down at himself, at his toned abs and hard pecs, he couldn’t help but be satisfied and look back up at Castiel for his reaction.

_Ironically_ enough, Cas is looking at the only part of Dean which is still covered, where he’s already tenting under the weight of his husband’s desiring stare.

Dean, flustered for once at Cas’s attention, runs his barely sweaty palms on the fabric of his boxers, if only to cause a little bit of movement. “Getting kinda chilly here, isn’t it?”

“Why, I thought it was,” Cas mused out loud, appreciative eyes flickering up to meet Dean’s, running over his physique in a rush. “Getting Hotter.”

Dean flushes red for some reason, and begins to deal; anxious to win this hand, if only for the sake of his pride.

*

Okay.

Cas loses a sock.

Maybe there’s still hope for Dean.

Reminding the latter that the next item off has to be his blazer (under which Cas is wearing a shirt, and then a tee, because of course he is) Dean deals again.

*

Their game’s been getting worse - with Cas distracted, and Dean getting cold, and Cas distracting him again, and Dean playing worse.

_Unfairly_ soon, Dean is stepping out of his boxers. He doesn’t make a big show of it, just gets to his feet, and slides them off like its no big deal, at least until he looks back at Cas, who’s staring at him intensely.

Castiel, with the rolled up sleeves of his shirt showcasing the veins on his forearms, looks hungrily at thetall, lean man in front of him, showing himself off without meaning to even. He’s a naked spectacle, he’s beautiful - Adonis would fucking sob - and he’s _his_.

“My eyes are up here, hubby.” Dean cooed, licking his lips, and running a hand through his hair.

“_Amazing_ idea.” Cas gritted through his teeth, as he wrenches his gaze off of the smirking man, now suddenly proud of himself again, and begins to deal.

*

When Dean loses a hand again, Cas is down to a ratty old V-neck and dress-pants.

Feigning a sigh, Dean gets up to his feet, to show that he has nothing left to lose on him.

Cas loses the last bit of his resistance when Dean teasingly begins to turn around - circle to prove that he’s, in fact, stark naked for Castiel, already.

He’s hardly back to face Castiel again, that he prances ahead, capturing Dean’s lips in an aggressive dipping motion. Dean is taken aback before he starts kissing back earnestly, though he knows his husband well enough to watch him go through all the levels of self-control before he stops giving a fuck - Cas simply marches unbelievably close to him, kisses him stupid, and carries him off to their bed, bridal-style.

Apparently, when you’re nude and have no dignity left to lose anymore, you get to get your brains fucked out, by your _very_ excited partner.

*

As Dean helped Cas get to his state of undress, unbuttoning his pants while Cas pulled his t-shirt over his head - Cas suddenly thought of something, and paused Dean’s motions, by holding his fingers away from his waist. “Dean.” He growled, teasing. “Of course, I am always into the idea of me fucking _you_ into the mattress, but _technically_, you haven’t won the _right_ to take my clothes off.”

Dean paused too, and stared Cas dead in the eye for a straight minute. “Shut the hell up, and maybe I’ll ride you tonight, and it’ll be a -” He paused to redirect his attention to Cas’s now naked chest and hardening nipples.

Cas gasped as Dean flicked his tongue out to soothe the hickey on his collarbone, throwing his head back and Dean finished his sentence with a countering growl. _“Win-win situation.”_

*

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun. Written once, in the HONOR OF THE MISHAPOCALYPSE! Sorry for it being really short. Hope you had a good time reading! Have a great day ~ Keep it sailing!


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